The End of Times
by Jagnarox
Summary: Gauis is a veteran of many wars, a hardened soilder who carries the weight of leadership. A man who has risen from the ranks and brings hope to the enlisted. He fights to help save humanity.


Darkness was close,

last shimmers of light crossed the horizon, signaling an end to the day. Soon it would not be safe, because with darkness came fear and with fear came chaos. Such black mass would send a man crazy in these times. Hardened veterans could turn into sniveling cowards and fresh recruits into easy targets. The only thing that can keep a man calm in the night is the promise of safety and in such times, this luxury has been lost thought never to return.

Gauis glanced over his shoulder to look at his men, 20 strong, dependable men. Each man had done his share in this war and proved his worth. The marched together in unison unbothered by the coming night, they had seen enough to know what awaited in the night. Gauis's eyes moved from man to man, all looked daunting in their regulation COG armor, his eyes fell over the debts and scratches that covered each mans armor, the battle scars. Each told its own story and each suit was a novel. Their helmets fixed tight on their heads, Gauis was a strict leader. Blue light emitted from viewing screens and other parts of the armor made night marches easier but much more dangerous. Whole companies had been slaughtered due to this, so Gauis had gotten an out of work electrician to update his men's suits with a button to turn the lights off and it had been a solid investment.

He gave the signal to turn the lights off as the last streaks of daylight succumbed to the horizon. His men experts at night marches, from countless hours of training, turned their lights off without a second thought. They continued to check their magazines, unlock safeties and cock their weapons, preparing for the long night. Within moments silence returned to the ranks and the only signs of their existence was the footsteps upon the rocks.

The last flecks of light out lined the forest around them. The road was more than wide enough for his men lined in two columns as it was made for viechles and the like but still Gauis motioned for his men to enter the woods. Navigation was not a problem for him and they were easy targets on the road. Now with the many trees and lack of space, he signaled for a skirmish formation. His men acknowledged and moved like predators in the night. They were on the attack, never the other way around. With controlled movement and breathing, almost no sound emitted from the unit, moving like a shadow. They fanned out and knew instinctively where the next man was, most had come from military back grounds and some native trackers, hunters. They were elite, unique and they were Gauis's.

Gauis ran a tight ship and his men respected that. He was a natural born leader with much experience. Instead of the standard issue COG helmet, he wore wolf fur, a symbol of his rank. His face covered in scars, with is right eye full of blood that surrounded the pupil. He was a mess, the worst of this war had been thrown upon him but he was still standing. In the ranks he was a symbol of hope and gave the officers distress, he had much more influence than a normal Lieutenant. His recent promotion had worried some officers. He was brutal, harsh and fearsome. Every week new stories added to that reputation. Men under his command and influence would fight for him, would bleed for him, would die for him. He may have been a mess, but he was their mess.

Gun fire sounded in the distance, and the unit took defensive positions. They still had a mile or two between the upcoming conflict but precautions saved lives. The men in seconds of hearing the gun fire were ready to take action.

All of sudden, a message came over every mans communications set. "This is Bravo Company, we are being ambushed in sector 3-A, from an elevated position. We need assistance! Calling any COG units in the vicinity for aid." Screams echoed over the mic, with added gun fire before the transmission continued. "We need back up!" the transmission ended and static hit the com before Gauis could respond.

Gauis quickly removed a map from his satchel, and illuminated it. Following it up he saw sector 3-A, and the elevated position was obvious because the path through was canyon, a death trap. He returned the map to his pack and called up his sergeants.

"Alright boys, we have friendlies caught in an ambush, in a canyon about two clicks up. We will need to double time it up there, so turn lights and night vision on. If we move quickly we can make it there in 15 minutes. Augustus take your squad up along the ridge and put whatever bastards are up there, under fire. I will move along with 3rd squad to the opposite ridge to do the same to the beasts on that side. Simmons take your squad into the canyon and get that company the hell out of there. Now lets get on the fuckin move!" Gauis ordered.

His sergeants gave a small acknowledgements and moved to their men. Within seconds they gave the signal they were ready to roll. Gauis ordered the advancement at double time, and his men ran a strong pace. Night vision made it easier to maneuver and his men navigated the forest easily moving with precision. Weapons at the ready they moved with speed through the dense Forrest. It was sloppy but saved time and that could save Bravo. They were ready to bring some pain and suffering to the bastards, something they much deserved.

Gauis slowed his men with the canyon in sight and the unit split each sergeant taking his men to their assignment. Gauis stayed went with third squad to the opposite ridge, to get there they moved back to the road and crossed. While Simmons took his squad strait down it. Blood curdling screams came from the canyon and this made Gauis move faster. "Could they be too late?" he thought to himself. Even if they were, he would kill the monsters keen on annihilating every human in site. His men moved up the slope leading to the canyon and immediately saw locusts heaving fire onto what was left of Bravo.

They were heavily armed and making easy work of those caught in the canyon. There was at least 20 he could make out. They were outnumbered by at least 3-1 odds. Gauis had his men spread out and arm grenades, swinging them to gain momentum, and soon let them fly in unison. He let confusion take the Locust as they were hit by 8 grenades, they had been too close together and a massacre ensued. The grenades had at least halved their number leaving still a good chunk behind. He gave the order for his men to open fire. Bullets tore into the Locust ranks, smacking into the rotten flesh. Gauis shouldered his Lancer Assault Rifle, lining his weapon sights onto the nearest locust and pulled the trigger. The locusts still stunned by the grenades hesitated and bullets hit them putting one by one down. Hidden by the cover of darkness, the attempt to return fire was futile and it didn't take long to end the fight.

He and his squad moved in checking the area. One of his men came across a locust still breathing kneeling with its head to one side, the solider put his assault rifle to its head and pulled the trigger. The others checked the bodies and scrounged enemy weapons and ammo. Two of his mean gathered torque bows, ready to wield such devastating weapons on their owners. He three men to make sure the rest of the ridge was clear and as the moved off lined his men along the ridge. He could see a fire fight on the other side of the ridge still raging and told his men to concentrate their fire there. He had not lost a s single man, they were outnumbered and out gunned but made short work of it all. Not much brought a smile to Gauis anymore but this sure came close.

Simmons was shocked, when he had entered the canyon, he was not prepared for such gore. Dozens of men lay dead bullet holes punctured throughout their armor. Simmons moved his squad up hard and fast, afraid of having the frightened Bravo Company fire upon his men. As they made their way to the survivors, Simmons yelled "Friendlies!!!, we are friendlies!!!". To avoid any friendly fire. "I am not dying in this god damn canyon for these fucking scum bags" he thought to him self. They passed creators filled with COG bodies, and more lay in open field. Blood soaked into the ground leaving red soil. At least 100 lay wasted in this canyon, is was a blood bath.

The remnants of Bravo were very few, six or seven left alive.


End file.
